


Not What I Ordered

by ellacj



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Diners, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellacj/pseuds/ellacj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma didn't order the lasagna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not What I Ordered

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for language, but otherwise 100% G
> 
> To answer all the questions about whether I'll be adding to this, I'm honestly not sure. I'm trying to focus on a bigger project at the moment, but I might come back to my oneshots when that's finished. We'll just have to see (:

Ruby smirks as she comes to Emma’s booth to take her order. “Finally caved and hit the diner scene, huh?”

Emma rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to order when her attention is suddenly directed elsewhere. “Whoa,” she says under her breath. The woman that has just entered her line of vision is _gorgeous_. Her short, dark hair is perfectly styled, and that suit she wears hugs her body in exactly the right places.

“What?” Ruby says, turning around. When she meets Emma’s eye again, it’s with a knowing smirk. “I see you found the Mayor.”

Emma tears her gaze away from the woman long enough to look back up at Ruby. “Mayor?”

“That woman you’re staring at. Mayor Regina Mills. And honestly, I don’t blame you for staring. Just wait until she turns around.” Ruby winks.

“I…” Emma shakes her head. “I wasn’t staring. Grilled cheese.”

Something in Ruby’s eye glints as she writes down the order. “Be right out.” Then she goes to Regina’s table, and Emma finds herself staring again at those plump red lips and the way her suit jacket curves out wide before nipping in tight at the waist.

She doesn’t even realize how long she’s been staring until Ruby sets a plate in front of her. Only it doesn’t have a grilled cheese sandwich on it. “Not staring, huh?” the waitress says, breaking Emma’s trance.

“Shut up,” Emma mutters. She glances at her plate. “I didn’t order lasagna.”

“Nope. She did.” Ruby gestures toward where the Mayor is sitting alone with her head.

“Okay, so why do I have it?”

“Because she’s gonna get your grilled cheese.”

Emma frowns. “Ruby, what are you doing?”

Ruby gets a sly grin on her face. “Introducing you.” She flounces off before Emma can protest, coming out of the kitchen a moment later to set a grilled cheese sandwich in front of Regina.

Regina frowns at her food, glancing around the diner before zeroing in on Emma and her plate of lasagna. She stands up, taking the sandwich with her, and strides confidently over to Emma’s table. “Did you order a grilled cheese, by chance?” she asks in a voice that can only be described as sultry.

Emma doesn’t know why she blushes. “Yeah. The lasagna’s yours then?”

Regina nods. “I believe so.” They switch plates, and Regina turns and goes back to her table.

 _Well that was anti-climactic_ , Emma thinks. _Looks like Ruby’s little plan failed_.

Or would have, if only she didn’t do it again the next time both women are seated in the diner.

Emma sighs as the lasagna is placed in front of her. “Again? Really?”

Ruby quirks an eyebrow. “I am trying to set you up with a hot woman and you’re yelling at me? Rude.”

Emma sighs, bringing the plate over to Regina’s table. “Hey.”

Regina looks up from the grilled cheese that has been placed in front of her. “You,” she says in mild surprise

“Guess Ruby mixed up our orders. Again.”

“It seems she did.” Regina accepts the dish Emma holds out and exchanges it for the one in front of her. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Emma feels herself blushing again, and hides it by hurrying back to her table. The effect that this goddamn woman has on her after saying five words to each other is kind of bothering her.

It happens again a week later. Emma’s beginning to learn that Regina comes in for lunch every Wednesday, and she always orders the same thing: lasagna with red pepper flakes.

Emma rolls her eyes when she sees Ruby heading toward Regina’s table with grilled cheese in hand, and lowers the waitress down to her level when the lasagna is delivered to her. “I am going to kill you,” she mutters in Ruby’s ear, but her threat is only met with a smirk and a wink.

Regina comes over to Emma’s table. “It seems this is to become a regular occurrence,” she says with a smirk tugging at her lips.

Emma laughs. “Yeah, Ruby must be having trouble back there. I’m Emma, by the way. Emma Swan.”

“Regina Mills.” Regina smiles as she accepts the plate that is handed to her, and by now they know the routine well enough to exchange the meals without any clumsy hand-offs. And with that, she goes back to her table.

On the next Wednesday, Emma puts on a nice shirt. She’s determined to actually _talk_ to the dark-haired beauty that has somehow wormed her way into Emma’s heart, for more than just the five seconds it takes to trade meals.

She doesn’t say anything this time when Ruby inevitably delivers the wrong order to Emma’s table; she simply stands up and strides confidently to the table where Regina is already watching her with an amused glint in her eye. “You have horrible taste in food,” she says as she holds out the plate, and _wow,_ that is definitely _not_ what she meant to say.

Regina arches both of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows as she hands Emma the sandwich. “I could say the same for you, dear.”

 _Dear_. Emma finds she likes that. “What I mean is… is this seat taken?”

“Not at all.” Regina gestures for her to take it, and she does. She stabs her fork into her lasagna and brings the bite to her mouth, moaning around the food and sending heat straight to Emma’s core. She chews and swallows, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, before she looks up at Emma. “Are you going to eat your food or just stare at me the whole time?” Her words are deadpan, but there’s a certain sparkle in her eye that lets Emma know she’s only teasing.

All the same, Emma’s cheeks burn as she lifts her sandwich to her mouth.

The lunch is over far too soon, and Regina stands up to go back to the office, leaving Emma alone and already counting the seconds until next Wednesday’s lunch break.

When the day finally comes, Emma doesn’t even bother sitting in her booth. She goes straight to Regina’s table and slides into the seat across from her. At Regina’s raised eyebrows, she simply smiles. “I figure we can save the waitress the trouble.”

Regina nods, a slight upturn of her lips making Emma count this as a win. “That sounds reasonable.”

“So, how come you like lasagna so much?”

Regina hums around her fork as she chews, waiting (as every lady does) until she’s swallowed and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin to answer. “My father used to make it for me when I was young. He passed the recipe down to me and I often make it for my son, but sometimes I just don’t feel like cooking. Hence,” she gestures to the half-eaten food on her plate, spearing another bite with her fork. “What is so appealing about sticky cheese and toasted bread?” she asks before bringing it to her mouth.

Emma makes a noise of mock indignation. “This sandwich _happens_ to be an all-American favorite.”

“So are beer and baseball. That doesn’t mean they’re good, dear.”

“Beer and baseball are _great_ , mind you. And besides, sometimes simple is good.”

Regina nods thoughtfully. “I see your point.” She stands up. “I really must get back to work.”

“We should do this again,” Emma blurts. “I mean, since we’re always here anyway. Same time next Wednesday?”

“I’ll see you then,” Regina agrees with a 100-watt grin.

And she does.

Emma shows up early that next Wednesday, even spritzed some perfume on before she left her apartment. She sits at the booth jiggling her leg up and down when she finally sees Regina come in the door, eyes scanning the diner until she finds Emma.

“Good afternoon,” Regina says as she settles into the seat across from her.

“Hey.” Emma grins broadly. “You came.”

“Of course I did.”

Ruby comes over, not even bothering to hide her smug smile. “What can I get you ladies?”

And sure enough, they order the same as they always do, and sure enough, they’re each handed the wrong dish.

It’s almost an inside joke between the two of them now as they slide their plates across the table. “So,” Emma says as she picks up her sandwich. “What’s it like being the mayor?”

“Stressful,” Regina says honestly. “Especially on top of being a single mother.” She daintily slides a bite of lasagna off her fork.

 _Single_. Regina’s single. Single, single, single as a motherfucking Pringle. There’s fireworks going off in Emma’s stomach; holy _shit_ she has a chance (if a microscopic one) with this goddess of a woman. “Yeah, you mentioned your son last week. What’s he like?”

Emma could stare at the way Regina’s eyes light up when she talks about Henry for days on end and never get bored. Her hands move animatedly and she just sounds so _happy_ as she tells Emma all about the ten-year-old boy who’s good at English and has a great imagination and always leaves his shoes on the stairs.

“He’s adopted?” Emma interjects when Regina mentions it.

“Yes. He was three weeks old when I got him.”

“You’re not worried about the birth mother?” Emma takes a sip of her coffee, watching Regina over the rim of the mug.

Regina shakes her head. “She was killed in a car accident when he was just a week old. That’s how he came to be orphaned.”

“Shit, that’s kinda sad.”

“Indeed. But if it hadn’t happened he never would have been my son.” Regina takes another bite of her lasagna before continuing. “I am of course deeply sorry that someone had to die for it to happen, but I am so glad that Henry is mine.”

Emma nods. “He sounds wonderful.”

And then Regina has to leave again, and Emma sits contentedly in her booth, replaying their conversation over and over in her head.

And the next week they do it again, and again the week after that. And they just talk. Like friends do.

And then one day, when Ruby drops off the wrong meals, Emma has an idea. “What if we don’t switch this time?”

“Hm?” Regina looks up, halfway through moving the plates already.

“I’ll eat your favorite if you eat mine.” Emma raises one eyebrow, as though daring Regina to accept her challenge.

“All right. But if I hate it we’re trading.”

“Deal.” Emma’s never been one for lasagna, but she’d eat a live spider if Regina liked them. Somehow the mayor of this tiny town has become her new obsession, an itch she just can’t seem to scratch.

Regina bites into the sandwich, a look of pleasant surprise coloring her face as she chews. “It’s not terrible,” she says after swallowing.

Emma smirks. “Told you.”

“Now it’s your turn.” An amused sparkle dances in her expressive brown eyes as Emma slowly moves her fork to the pasta dish with a look of utter distaste on her face.

It feels slimy going down her throat, and _Jesus Christ, pepper flakes are hot_. She practically drowns her tongue in water trying to wash both the taste and the spice out of her mouth, glaring at Regina in response to the amused smirk playing at her lips. “This _is_ terrible.” She shoves the plate toward the other side of the table and snatches up her sandwich.

They continue their meal as they always do, chatting about things neither of them would normally talk about with anyone but each other.

It’s oddly comforting, Emma thinks, to have Regina to open up to even about simple things. “I do have my old baby blanket still,” Emma admits one day. “I know it’s weird, but it’s the only thing I have left of my parents, you know?”

Regina nods thoughtfully. “I do.”

Sometimes Regina snatches fries off of Emma’s plate, making indignant noises when Emma simply leans over and eats them straight out of her hand.

And sometimes Emma will order a dessert so insanely good that she’ll pop a bite into Regina’s mouth.

“You’re basically a couple,” Ruby insists, even though Emma keeps telling her they’re not.

And then one day Emma makes a decision. They’ve been meeting at the diner every Wednesday for three months now, and the crush Emma’s had on Regina since that first day hasn’t gone away. So she dresses nicely that day; wears a pair of jeans without holes in them and one of her nicer shirts. She even curls her hair. And she arrives extra early for their usual Wednesday lunch, prepared for the worst.

“This is a date,” Emma says bluntly before Regina sits down.

“Excuse me?”

“Today. Right now. This is a date. You don’t have to stay. I don’t expect you to stay. But if you do, this is a date. Is that okay?”

Regina tilts her head, studying Emma’s face. “Yes.”

And then she sits down.


End file.
